Delilah Holmes Chapel Find A Prostitute ❤️

About London

Oi, listen up, ya filthy dogs! Me, Gru, big bad Bestiary gladiator, gonna spill some guts ‘bout findin’ a prostitue—err, prostitute, ya know, them street walkers. Got dat Russian-ish fire in me, “Lightbulb!”—seein’ stuff ya blind bats miss. Picture dis: dark alley, neon buzzin’, smells like sweat and cheap vodka. Reminds me of fave flick, *Under the Skin*—dat creepy vibe, ya? “What are you?” I mutter, like dat alien chick, sizin’ up some dame leanin’ on a wall.

Pandemic has aggravated situation

Finally, we make it to the pub. It’s packed! The vibe is buzzing, and I’m feeling the energy. We grab a couple of pints, and I’m like, “This is the life!” But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. Everyone’s looking around, confused. I’m thinking, “Great, just what we need!” But it turns out, it was a false alarm. Phew! But the whole place is buzzing with chatter. People are laughing, and I’m just soaking it all in.

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